


Original Poetry

by one_man_band



Category: Dead Poets Society
Genre: Friendship, Loss, Love, Mental Health Issues, Nature, Other, Poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:13:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21546652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_man_band/pseuds/one_man_band
Summary: I just have a few poems and while I don't think they are any good, I still wanted to have them somewhere for interested people to see. It doesn't have all that much to do with DPS, except that it was only because of this film that I felt inspired to write myself in the first place.
Kudos: 15





	1. Sleepless

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my mother tongue.

I fought these battles day by day,  
Against the voices that would say,  
How unworthy I am of being,  
That no one liked what they’re seeing,  
So much for my inner strife,  
What a wasted time of life.

But one day I put the voices out of sight,  
And again my days were bright,  
I lived my life happily,  
And thought I’d be forever free,  
When only I had pushed them deep inside,  
Now they come to visit me at night.


	2. Chapter 2

We had lived in this house together  
Where we would make up stories,  
That was how we spent our time forever  
And kept out all of our worries.

One day when I came to you  
The door of our house was locked  
And there was nothing I could do,  
You did not open even when I knocked.

So I sat down on the doorstep  
And waited for you to change yor mind,  
As I watched familiar faces cross the gap,  
All of which you let come inside.

It was heart-breaking to see;  
Where did I go wrong?  
Why them and not me?  
I was wondering for so long.

It had changed me so I went away,  
Only for minutes maybe hours back then  
Until I just left and did not return one day  
And never entered another house again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this one is a bit different from my other poems bc my approach to writing it was different, but idk maybe it's just me. It's also "brand new" whereas the previous two already existed for quite some time and I just posted them when I felt like it.

Even if it was survival  
We admire those times still,  
It is easier to pay respects to a bygone strained love  
Than living with its ghost above.

For things were different at the start,  
But over the years they grew apart,  
Bonds were damaged, trust was broken  
Yet, memories keep us hoping.

Perspectives vary with the seasons  
And accuse each other of treason,  
Though judgement shall not be summoned,  
For they all have this in common-

What was buried underneath  
Cannot sleep for eternity,  
It happened years ago for worse or better  
And still it does extensively matter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The poet reads his crooked rhyme..."  
> At least that's what I think I'm doing here

Sometimes my heart is grabbed by caprices,  
It sees something and must revere,  
Leading me most certainly into crisis,  
Not recking what is waiting in the rear.

It builds up castles in the clouds  
Where the air is too thin to live,  
But not wanting to hear about routs,  
It'd just like a little hope to give.

Even when my mind is unwilling to believe,  
At last it can't help but to be prone  
To fall for the water vapour mischief,  
Then I always end up alone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this a few months ago and stumbled upon it yesterday, so I thought I might as well share it.

There are things I left behind,  
I came to terms with them,  
They are not preying on my mind,  
I'm over the portentous ban.

Yet, I could have sworn  
They just stood outside my front door,  
Simply rang the doorbell at dawn  
And kept chattering with me evermore.

In fact they did not appear  
In an unheralded manner,  
For I had dreamt of them the night prior,  
In spite of the augury, it hit me no lesser.

I do not want to talk  
Nor think about the recurrence,  
Want to forget past time's stalk,  
Still I sit here writing these verses.


End file.
